


Of Cats and Mice in Fancy Clothes

by Eratoschild



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Background Promptis mostly for humor, Chill XV, Iggy's kinda evil and he knows it., M/M, Playing Hard to Get, implied wall sex, wall kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 13:44:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14916464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eratoschild/pseuds/Eratoschild
Summary: Six damn Iggy and his ability to be his own cock block.





	Of Cats and Mice in Fancy Clothes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dudewheresmytea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dudewheresmytea/gifts).



> Written for Dudewheresmytea with the prompt of Gladnis and a kiss in desperation.

He scans the ballroom yet again. Spying Ignis, Gladio sees that he is currently playing the diplomat to Lord and Lady Something-Or-Other of Six Only Know Where, has been putting him off all night. Though not without good reason. It's another royal gala and both Shields are on duty. Noctis keeps trying to drag Prompto off to make out in an empty hallway or balcony. Gladio is obligated to thwart his efforts.

Gladio looks good. He knows this because…he's in public, isn't he? He curses the self control that allows Ignis to continually stave him off tonight as he mingles and makes nice with all and sundry. Astrals know that for all of his own hard-wrought discipline, Gladio has the worst time keeping his hands off of Ignis, who now appears to be unfettered of local nobility or foreign dignitaries and is once again moving through the room like he owns the place, king and prince be damned.

Ignis's Official Function persona, and its hot as Ifrit’s- well, it's just really fucking hot. Gladio tries not to think about it too much. A Shield on duty must keep a clear mind. Just as he tries not to think of earlier that afternoon when, knowing him so well, Iggy pulled him against a wall and told him to get it out of his system while he had the chance because it was going to be a long night. He knows it's not just for his own good. Ignis might have himself under fairly secure lock and key but not without his own struggle. Each is well aware of the effect he has on the other when in the proper dress and demeanor for official functions such as this.

"Come on Babe,” he coaxes- or tries to- yet again as Ignis passes near him, “just a dance, right over there by Princess and Blondie, it'll look like we're just keeping an eye on them."

"No." Ignis rebukes him, smirking. He's enjoying this, a little too much. Typical Iggy, Gladio thinks to himself, trying to keep his ogling discreet as Ignis stalks away. Damn, his ass looks fine in those tuxedo pants. Life would be so much easier if he’s just put the jacket back on and stopped parading around in the vest and shirt, as amazing as the vest looks on him in shimmering lavender and spring green silk, perfectly picking up and accenting the jade of his eyes. He's suddenly grateful for the slightly flared fit and heavy material of his uniform coat.

He stops a server passing through the crowd with a tray of sparkling drinks. Probably champagne, he figures but the server tells him it's juice, so he takes a glass and downs it in two gulps. It's not much on his dry throat in the stuffy atmosphere, but it's cold and pleasantly sweet, providing some small measure of relief.

He spies Noctis and Prompto, trying to escape again. Making his way over to them, he puts an arm around each and cheerfully announces “Back you go. If I’m not allowed to get any tonight, you two sure are as hell aren’t.”

He deposits them in sight of the king and surveys the room for Ignis again. Their eyes meet and a very smug look settles across Ignis’s features. Gladio starts across the room and is only steps away when he’s stopped by “Why of course, my Lord, my Lady, I would be most honored to show you the Hall of Portrsits, right this way!” The self-satisfied smile deepens just a degree as Ignis sails past him with his esteemed companions in tow.

Later, Gladio catches up to him just as he accepts an invitation to dance from Prompto.

 _Blondie gets a dance but I don't?_ He texts.

Iggy's reply came a bit later: " _Blondie" wasn't going to try to drag me behind a curtain and feel me up. Bonus point that it was a few minutes in which we could be certain that he and Noctis wouldn't be doing just that themselves._

Six damn Iggy and his ability to be his own cock block.

It's a game of cat and mouse for the rest of the night, Ignis always dancing- sometimes quite literally- half a step ahead, Gladio does his best to try to keep on his heels, but never quite wins.

When finally the clock strikes to signal two in the morning and the last dance for the night, Gladio feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns, a smile crawling across his lips, knowing who it must be; even as he is starting to flag there exist only a handful of individuals who can sneak up on him. Ignis stands there, expectant, and takes his hand with a wicked little grin, kissing it, hmurmuring as he does, “My Lord Shield, I do hope that you will favor me with the evening’s last dance?”

“Always just a little over the top, aren't you, Iggy?” He replies with an affectionate laugh and a small snort.

The wicked grin melts to a loving smile, showing only the merest hint of waning in the late hour as Ignis leads him across the nearly empty dance floor. But a handful of other couples make vague gestures at waltzing while Ignis, tired as Gladio knows him to be, is utterly impeccable in his form. They glide across the floor at Ignis’s lead, drawing a few murmured comments and glances and a look from one lady of the kingdom who appears to be torn between wanting to break them up and claim one for her own or take them both back to her guest chamber.

He pays her and the other bystanders no more mind and soon the waltz is ending. Ignis pulls him down to a sweet, chaste kiss that's over as soon as it starts. When Gladio tries to chase him for more, he's stopped by a single finger resting lightly against his sternum. “Not until we're home,” Ignis tells him and knowing him to well, adds, “inside the apartment and the door locked.” Left to his own interpretation of home, Gladio is well aware that Ignis knows that as it is, he is liable to try to bend him over the car the second they get out and close the doors.

Noctis and Prompto are spending tonight in the Prince's suite in the palace, and so once their state duties are complete, they are no longer needed. They bid the two, and the King and Clarus goodnight.

When they arrive in the garage of Ignis's building, he cuts the engine and both breathe a sigh of relief. They hurry to the elevator and into Iggy's apartment, snapping the door lock behind them. He doesn't waste another second crushing Ignis- who pulls him with equal haste- against the door in an ardent, and artless, kiss. It's a sloppy collision of teeth and tongues as if they thought it might be the last chance for the rest of their lives.

“Six, Iggy. You were torture tonight.”

“Worth it,” Ignis finally replies between breaths and kisses, “knowing how badly you were squirming in your uniform. You know how I like that.”

“Just...tell me you were thinking of me and squirming just as badly in your tuxedo when you were dancing with Lady Whoever-She-Was.”

“I don't squirm, Gladiolus. You know that.”

“You don't? We'll see.” And he takes Iggy by the hand and leads him to his bedroom. They were both tired enough tonight that he might not succeed but he was sure as hell going to try.


End file.
